THE TOWN WHERE ETHAN COLE WASN’T A STRANGER

Chapter 11

Six months after Ethan arrived in Greyhaven, another storm came.

Not the kind that appeared on weather reports.

The kind that arrived in the middle of the night with headlights on an empty road.

Ethan woke at 3:04 a.m.

His phone rang.

Walter.

“Ethan.”

“I’m listening.”

“Someone’s at the harbor.”

“Who?”

“Don’t know.”

Ethan was already pulling on his jacket.

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When he arrived, he found Walter standing beside the boats.

The old man looked toward the ocean.

“There’s a ship out there.”

Ethan squinted.

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A light moved beyond the waves.

“What’s strange about it?”

Walter pointed toward the registration.

Ethan saw the name painted on the hull.

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BLACK TIDE.

Ethan stared.

“That’s impossible.”

Walter shook his head.

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“No.”

He looked at Ethan.

“That’s the boat.”

The same boat that had supposedly disappeared twenty years ago.

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The same boat connected to Thomas Cole.

The same boat that had carried secrets across the coast.

The light grew closer.

Ethan’s phone rang.

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Unknown number.

He answered.

A man’s voice spoke.

“You wanted a new life.”

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Ethan looked at the approaching boat.

“You found one.”

The voice continued.

“Don’t destroy it.”

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Ethan looked toward Greyhaven.

The houses.

The harbor.

The diner.

His house.

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People sleeping behind warm windows.

People who trusted him.

The voice said:

“Leave tonight.”

Ethan closed his eyes.

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Once, he would have.

He would have packed his bag.

Started the truck.

Disappeared before sunrise.

But that man no longer existed.

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Ethan opened his eyes.

“No.”

The call went silent.

Then:

“You’ll regret that.”

Ethan hung up.

Walter looked at him.

“You sure?”

Ethan nodded.

“Yeah.”

The old man smiled.

“Good.”

The Black Tide disappeared into the fog before the police arrived.

No one found the boat.

No one found the crew.

But Ethan knew something had changed.

His new life had been noticed.

And someone wanted him to remember that no place was ever completely safe.

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